


Something Out of Nothing

by UltimateFandomTrash



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: "best friends", Camping, Horace Altman/Will Treaty is implied, M/M, Sassy ranger, The knight and the ranger finally get a holiday, Unexpected Feels, Will's mandola
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8075884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/UltimateFandomTrash
Summary: Will and Horace are finally given a break from their taxing duties of King's Ranger, and Knight (respectively), and they decide to go camping.





	

Birds twittered and called to each other in the crisp morning air. There was a breeze from the north, bringing the chill of autumn with it, and as it passed it rustled the colorful foliage of the trees. The leaves that were too weak to continue clinging to their branches fluttered to the ground in graceful swirls, creating an arbitrary pattern on the dew-covered grass. Adding to the picturesque scenery was a little cabin nestled at the edge of the woods. Though the sun was just beginning to cast gray light into the sky, the occupant of the cabin was already up and about. 

Will Treaty, short in stature, but lean and very much capable of holding his own in battle, stepped out of the front door of the cabin onto the verandah. His mottled gray-green cloak was wrapped about him against the biting air, making his figure uncertain as it blended in with the early morning shadows. His strung longbow was rested on his shoulder, along with a quiver holding twenty four arrows. At his hip was a double-scabbard, something only rangers had, and it contained his saxe knife and his throwing knife.

A smile lit his face, reaching his dark brown eyes, as he made his way down the steps. His movements were energetic, the large cup of coffee he’d had with honey no doubt playing a part in it. Though, his excitement for the day ahead of him brought on its own sense of restfulness and rejuvenation. Today, Horace, Will’s closest friend, was going to be meeting up with him at the cabin, and from there they’d be setting out into the woods. 

Horace, who was riding his massive battle horse Kicker had just reached the main thoroughfare that led through the village around Castle Redmont. He was disappointed that it was still too early for the sun to turn the sturdy walls of iron ore red as it reflected off of the magnificent towers and keep. He shrugged. He wasn’t here for the view of his childhood home. 

Keeping to the outskirts of the village so as not to disturb the families and workers that were still nestled in their beds, he found the path he was looking for. The clip-clop of Kicker’s iron-shod hooves transformed into a dull thud as the surface beneath him turned from cobblestone to dirt. Horace smiled. He was going to see Will soon.

Will, knowing Horace was most likely nearly there, was just packing a few more things. They’d discussed this little outing through letter correspondence, and on occasion, when Will had just enough time off, he had ridden to Castle Araluen to discuss the finer details. They both had their usual camping gear: tents, a few pots and pans, some wooden plates and cups, just enough silverware to get by, a coffeepot (both boys would be distraught if they left it behind), their bedrolls, flint and steel for lighting a fire, and their water canteens. Horace had packed a small hatchet for chopping firewood, and some rope and leather cords were also in his saddlebags. He didn’t know when he would find the need to use them, but Sir Rodney, his battlemaster had taught him to be prepared for any situation. Both boys also had the essentials for caring for their horses; a bag of feed each, and leather unfolding buckets for them to drink from. 

Tug nickered to Will and then shook his mane as if saying, _I’m ready to go. Are you?_

Will let out an easy laugh and patted the little horse on his neck. “As a matter of fact, I am ready to go, but we have to wait for Horace.”

A low rumble emitted from the horse’s barrel of a chest. Will interpreted this as, _Let’s just leave without him._

“Be patient,” Will said. 

While he waited, he checked through his saddlebags, making sure he had everything. Will was the better cook out of the two of them so it had been decided that he bring the foodstuffs. After checking and seeing that he had his little brown pouch that contained a variety of spices he was satisfied that he had everything. 

Despite telling Tug to be patient, Will realized that he could also benefit from that advice. He began to pace the clearing in front of the cabin. To any observer he would seem lost in thought, an easy target. But that wasn’t the truth. Without moving his head, Will observed everything as he paced, his eyes constantly roaming back and forth over the landscape, seeking movement, and peering into the shadows. Being so close to Castle Redmont, he was relatively safe, but searching the area around him had become a habit of his, drilled into him from his five years of training as a ranger. 

In his peripheral vision, through the sparse outreaches of the forest, he saw a tall rider on the path that led to the cabin. If it was anyone else the common person wouldn’t notice them, but this was Horace. A blind and deaf person would know he was coming from a kilometer away. 

Will kept up his pacing, making no sign that he had noticed Horace. Tug had sensed him as well, the breeze most likely carrying his scent to him. He gave a soft whinny to alert Will. At this distance Tug couldn’t tell if the person approaching was a potential threat, so he treated all newcomers as such. 

“It’s just Horace,” Will whispered to him, knowing that with his keen hearing he would pick up the sound of his voice from across the clearing. As he spoke, he held his palm out for a second or two in a vertical position, knowing Tug would recognize the hand signal. He saw Tug nod his head, possibly in recognition, and then he remained quiet. 

It wasn’t long before he heard the rhythmic, weighted thud of Kicker as he approached at a trot. Still, Will pretended he didn’t notice. Just a few more seconds… 

When Horace was two meters away he called out a greeting to Will. Instantly, he stopped his pacing, and turned to Horace with a start.

“I didn’t see you there,” he said, still doing his best to look startled. 

Horace had reached him now, and he had swung down off of Kicker, albeit with less grace than Will would have due to his large cavalry sword strapped to his hip. He held the reins in one hand so the massive horse wouldn’t wander off. His smug smile spoke volumes.

“You’re slipping,” he told Will. “Age getting to you?”

“We’re the same age,” Will pointed out.

Horace scratched his head, as if just realizing how weak his attempted insult had been. That was beside the point, so he shrugged. 

“I still managed to catch you off guard,” he told him proudly, nearly puffing out his muscular chest. 

Will pat him on the shoulder, giving him a pitying look. “If that’s what you think.” 

Without further explanation he turned and went to Tug. Will did his best to hold in his laughter as he tightened the girth on his saddle and prepared to mount. Picturing Horace’s stunned face did him in. 

As Will broke into a fit of laughter, Horace said, sounding a little down that he had been tricked, “Ha ha, very funny, Will.”

With one hand clutching his abdomen, and the other clutching the pommel of Tug’s saddle, Will was bent over, no longer trying to suppress his amusement over the whole situation.

“Y-you… thought… that you… actually… snuck up on me?” he barely got out. His diaphragm was starting to hurt from how much he was laughing.

Horace’s grim expression from having his leg pulled just made Will laugh even more. When he calmed down he swung up onto Tug’s saddle. Horace mounted Kicker. 

Horace nudged Kicker up beside Will, so now he had to crane his neck to look up at his tall friend. With a nod of assent, they set off into the woods behind the cabin.

Color seemed to flow into the world as the sun gradually made its way above the horizon. The long shadows ebbed, and the air warmed till it was comfortably cool. 

Sensing unusual movement to the right of him, where Horace was, Will looked to his friend, only to let out a snort of amusement. A slight frown creased his angular face as he battled with a leaf that had dared to cross his path as it fell. 

After successfully swatting it away, Will commented, “Quite a fearsome enemy.”

Knowing he was joking, Horace joined in, “It’s all right, Will. I defeated it. It can’t reach you from beyond the grave.”

“Are you sure?”

The change in Will’s tone made Horace look to him. His raised eyebrow made it difficult to tell if he was being serious or not.

Seeing the look of befuddlement on Horace’s face, Will grinned cheekily before gently pressing his knees into Tug’s ribs, urging him ahead of Kicker.

“Hey!” Horace shouted as the distance between the two of them grew. 

After grumbling something about rangers, Horace pressed Kicker ahead, reaching the little horse and it’s mischievous rider.

Will slowed, and Kicker whinnied as Horace pulled back on the reins. The big battle horse liked to run. But here in the woods, where they followed no trail, doing so would be dangerous.

“What’s with you today?” Horace asked his friend. 

“Nothing,” Will answered quickly. 

“Mm hm,” Horace grunted. Though, he decided to leave it at that. If his friend wanted to talk about it later then he would.

They rode in silence for a few minutes, and somehow, Will just knew that Horace was waiting to say something. 

His patience on shorter supply than usual, the anticipation got to him. 

“What is it?” Will queried.

“Earlier,” Horace began, speaking slowly and clearly so as to not blunder, “you looked genuinely surprised.” 

At first Will was confused, but then he remembered the first trick he’d pulled on Horace that day. 

“I think you’ll find that rangers also have a knack for acting.”

“No kidding.”

“Besides, there’s no way anyone could sneak up on me.”

“Except for Halt,” Horace supplied. He knew that Will’s former teacher was a legend in the country, so surely he still had the ability to catch Will off guard.

Will smiled as he thought of his old mentor. Gruff and straightforward with a no-nonsense attitude, Halt was skilled at making sure everything that needed to be done was seen to. At first, Will had been frightened of him. The man had seemed so quiet and withdrawn, but as their bond grew Will learned that there was more to him than that. He was compassionate, loyal, and he had a quick wit that often led to him and Will throwing many sarcastic comments back and forth.

“Yeah, except for Halt,” Will agreed, not upset by the fact. He knew he wasn’t going to be the master of everything, and Halt was Halt. The whole country knew of his legendary feats! 

“I will find a way to get back at you,” Horace promised.

“I look forward to it.”

After a few hundred meters they stopped by a burbling stream that ran to the left of them, curving towards them before meandering its way out of view once more. Will wanted to check his north-seeker, an instrument that was only issued to rangers.

 _Strange that,_ Horace thought. _It seems so useful._

Curiosity getting the better of him, he tried to surreptitiously lean over in his saddle, wishing to get a glance of the mysterious device. That was when Will snapped it shut, blocking off what Horace had been about to see. He’d done it casually, but the young knight knew that Will had noticed. 

Before the subject could be addressed, which would most likely lead to an awkward situation, Horace questioned, “Where are you taking us?”

The ranger shrugged. “Halt said something about there being a clearing directly north of the cabin.” 

“And if there’s not?”

“Does it matter?” his friend asked light-heartedly. “We’ve actually been given a holiday.”

“About time someone gave us recognition for our hard work,” Horace grumbled.

Will let out a laugh. “Are you forgetting something?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“Your knighthood, oh great Warrior of the Order of the Oakleaf.” 

Horace scratched his head in slight embarrassment. “Right.” 

“Can you believe it?” Will asked. “Our first holiday together. No rules, no responsibilities, no one trying to chop our heads off.” He sighed. “Just me and you.”

“And your terrible sense of humor,” Horace joked.

In good-humored retaliation, Will said, “I think you’re forgetting about one companion on this trip.”

Not sure where Will was going with this, Horace decided to play along. “Who?”

“Your massive ego.” 

Both boys grinned at each other before breaking into a fit of laughter. Their horses twitched their ears at the unexpected increase of volume. 

The trees became larger, the going becoming a little more rough as the distance between them lessened. They had reached a slight incline a few meters back, but instead of petering out, it continued going up and up and up.

When they had focus to spare, the two boys caught up. Will was joyful with having been assigned to Redmont Fief a few months back. Though, the little cabin felt lonely without the presence of his former mentor. About two years back, Halt had married the elegant head courier for the fief and diplomatic advisor, Lady Pauline. Now he lived in a comfortable suite with her in the castle. Though, Will wasn’t as lonely as he could be. Alyss visited him whenever she found time, and he found that he rather enjoyed the company of the blonde, graceful courier. 

At the mention of her, Horace grew a little subdued. Then he carefully brought up Evanlyn, the crown princess of Araluen. Her name was really Cassandra, but when they first met her she had been traveling under the guise of her maid. They both knew that she actually liked when they called her Evanlyn. 

She and Horace were going close. Will was a tad jealous, seeing as he and Evanlyn had shared a special bond a few years back. Therefore, Horace did his best to keep his mention of her brief. He struggled with that, seeing as when he wasn’t out on a military mission, or training to become a battlemaster, he was her personal guard. 

Realizing how Will grew uncomfortable, Horace ended the conversation. The awkward silence soon become companionable. 

At midday they reached the clearing that Halt had spoken of, and that was when both boys realized they had been wrong in their thinking… there were still plenty of responsibilities to go around.

They tended to their horses first, unsaddling them, and then brushing them down with the dark green grass in the clearing. Will needn’t worry about Tug wandering off while he did this, so he had removed his reins. Kicker of course, not trained in the way of ranger horses had to have his lead rope tied to a sturdy tree branch. He was discontented until he realized that Horace had made sure he’d have a large range, with plenty of sweet grass to munch on. 

After they fed and watered the horses, they began to set up camp. They were used to the routine, but for some reason they hadn’t really expected it. They were on holiday after all.

“I wish we had a slave for this stuff,” Horace said unthinkingly as he hefted his hatchet onto his shoulder, about to cut some firewood. 

Startled and hurt, Will dropped his tent he had been setting up at the edge of the clearing. Usually Horace was so good about not saying things like that around Will, but it always dug deep into him like a knife when he heard such words from his closest friend. In fact, Horace looked stunned that he’d said it. 

“Will, I didn’t mean-” Horace began, hanging his head in shame. 

The stricken look on Will’s face made Horace feel a twinge in his chest. There was no taking back the terrible words he’d said. He knew that Will grew tense and uncomfortable from even hearing the word slavery. His brutal months as a Skandian slave still affected him, Horace knew. Every once in awhile the cold bothered him more than it should, and a salve that was standard issue for every ranger was left out of Will’s medical kit due to his addiction to the drug. 

Will slumped his shoulders, the ground suddenly becoming very interesting. 

“I know, Horace. You would never intentionally hurt me like that.”

“It just slipped out,” he said quickly. 

“I understand.”

There was silence as Horace tried to think about how to help his friend out of his solemn mood. He knew that he couldn’t just let everything continue like nothing had happened. There was no honor in that, something that Horace greatly valued. 

After some careful speculation, he suggested, “Why don’t you just relax and I’ll take care of everything?”

Will gestured to the supplies and belongings they’d brought with them with both his hands. “Setting up a camp for two people on your own? Horace, it’s fine, I can do my part.”

That made Horace determined; Will wasn’t going to do any of the work. 

He set his jaw, stepping forward. “Will, get out your mandola, sit your ass down on a comfortable patch of ground and play to your heart’s content, you hear me?”

Now Will stepped forward, no longer looking as sullen, but in fact, perhaps a little angry. 

“You think I can’t set up camp just because you hurt my feelings?”

“Will, we both know it goes deeper than that, and no, that’s not my reason. I hurt you, and I have to make up for it.”

“You don’t have to claim responsibility for everything,” he argued, taking another step towards the muscular knight. 

Their closing distance with each remark made it obvious that Horace towered over him, but Will was far from intimidated. 

Another step. “It’s not about responsibility, Will. It’s about honor.”

Now it was Will’s turn to step forward. “Honor?” he questioned condescendingly.

One more step and Horace was able to reach out and grasp his shoulders. Before he even spoke his touch seemed to send a message to Will. 

Knowing that shouting would do no good, he spoke more quietly, but emphatically, “It’s about being a good friend.” Will’s gaze softened, now understanding. Horace’s did as well, glad that the message had gotten through. “Please, let me be your friend.”

At a resounding nod from Will, Horace released him, giving him a smile. Will returned the expression. 

“Thanks, Horace.”

So Horace worked on setting up camp for the two of them. At a comment from Will, he made sure their tents were set up at the edge of the clearing. He didn’t really understand why, and he’d wanted it in the middle of the clearing, but he trusted Will’s judgement, so he did it without question. All the while, Will played his mandola with a noticeable, cheerful vigor. The jaunty tunes made Horace smile, and when the songs he played had words, Will’s voice matched perfectly with the instrument. 

In fact, Horace found himself singing along with a few of the songs as he worked. When Will broke into “Graybeard Halt”, Horace laughed before eagerly joining in. Soon, he was a bit too out of breath to sing; chopping firewood could be a taxing chore, even for Horace. 

After an hour, their camp was set up, and Will was studying it with an expression of approval, his hands on his hips. 

“I got to say, Horace, I’m impressed. This is by far the neatest camp you’ve ever set up.”

Embarrassed that Will had noticed the extra effort he’d put in to make everything just so, he rubbed the back of his head with a hand as he blushed. 

“It was nothing,” he mumbled. 

Will turned to Horace, his eyes alight, “Then you sure know how to make nothing mean something.”


End file.
